Metal Gear Smut One-shots
by Mackingtosh
Summary: A series of explicit smut-based one-shots in the Metal Gear universe. I have plenty of ideas, so instead of individual stories I'll put them all here. At the beginning of each chapter will be smut and spoiler warnings. I'm new to writing smut and writing in general, so any criticism you have is welcomed. If people call for it, chapters may be continued.
1. Chapter 1 (The Boss, Jack)

The one is short (1,500 words) and vanilla. Its also my first M/F smut and first third person, so that might be off. Takes 10+ years before Metal Gear Solid 3, and has no real spoilers. Characters: The Boss, Jack (aka Naked Snake aka Big Boss)

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A gust of wind pushed the cool air past the green leaves, shaking them enough to make a few fall, gently drifting through the air to before coming to rest on the fabric of a tent. The shelter was small and spartan in nature, barely big enough for two people to lay side by side. Two backpacks were laid outside, heavy with supplies and tools, and the old ashes of a fire were picked up briefly by the wind before they fell to the ground once more. Birdsong sounded from above, and a particularly loud call caused a person in the tent to start awake. He looked around, confused when he saw no one beside him, only a faint impression left on the sleeping bag. Seeing the position of the sun against the wall of the tent, he paled and muttered, "Shit." Frantically grabbing a pair of pants from that he was using as a pillow and pulling on a pair of boots that were next to the sleeping bag, he unzipped the tent flap and stepped outside, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the bright daylight. From behind him, he heard a familiar voice call out.

"Jack. You woke up late." Expecting the cutting tones of anger, he was surprised when it sounded… sultry? He turned around, laying eyes on the woman he knew simply by 'Boss.' She was wearing what she had worn the day before, a set of fatigues that matched the color of the terrain around them, but the buttons at the front were undone, exposing part of her toned chest and stomach. Only the gentle inner curve of her breasts was shown, but Jack still gulped anxiously, trying to keep his eyes from straying across her body.

"B-Boss, I thought you were going to- to wake me up," he said, stumbling over his own words in nervousness. "I'm- I-"

She cut him off, holding up a hand to stem his apologies. "No need to be sorry. It's not your fault, _Jack_ ," she said, drawing out the name in a husky voice, and she continued in a suggestive tone, "I was planning to wake you with a surprise." She stepped forward, trailing her fingers along the side of the tent as she moved towards him, hips swaying. Jack stood dumbstruck, his words stuck in his throat as he stared at her. He had always thought she was beautiful, perhaps not in the traditional sense, but he admired her strong, muscled form. Her face was not pretty, however it was certainly handsome, with piercing blue eyes, high cheekbones, and a strong, squared chin, outlined by her blond hair. She stopped in front of him, a seductive look in her eyes as she grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him until their bodies were pressed together. With their lips only inches apart, Jack felt the hot exhale of breath across his face and the pounding of his heart as her other hand slipped down between them. He gasped when her hand cupped between his legs, his member starting to strain against the confines of his boxers. He hadn't been able to take care of it for the past two weeks, and he already felt his control slipping away. She leaned in, whispering in a tone that made his heart pound even harder and his shaft throb against her hand.

"You're so hard already. You wanted this, I can tell." He felt her hand start moving up and down his length through his pants, and he let out a low groan. She released her grip on his shirt, letting the bunched up material fall back into place, and lowered herself to a crouch in front of him. Her hands unbuttoned his pants, unzipping them to reveal the bulge in his underwear, a small wet stain in the fabric near the tip. Jack looked down at her face in a mix of confusion and arousal and her blue eyes returned the gaze with a smile on her lips as her soft hand reached inside his boxers through the fold of cloth in the front. Her fingers wrapped around his engorged manhood and pulled it out to meet the open air, and he let out a groan, even the slight stimulation intense against the sensitive skin. She stroked him once, staring into his eyes with a seductive look as she bit her lip, starting to move her hand up and down his thick member in a rhythmic motion. After less than a minute, he was already so close, his shaft feeling painfully full and throbbing with every motion of her hand. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back as another low groan escaped him.

Suddenly he felt her release him and an arm wrap around his throat, her body now pressed against his back as she put him in what he recognized as a CQC chokehold. He stood frozen, confused and still torturously aroused, on the brink of release. He heard her voice against his ear, and this time the tone was familiar. Disappointment.

"I expected better of you, Jack. I thought that lesson I gave you a while ago would have prepared you."

Jack managed a strangled voice against her arm, confusion evident as he said, "What? What are you talking about?"

He heard her sigh against his ear, the warm breath tickling him, and she said, "The lesson I gave you about female agents. There are as many of them as men, and they won't hesitate to try and seduce you. If I had been one of them, you'd be dead right now, or worse. You didn't even try to ask me what I was doing,"

He groaned as the realization sunk in. It had been a test, and he failed. It wasn't the only surprise the Boss had sprung on him, but it was unlike anything she had done before. He mumbled an apology, feeling his face burn red.

Her voice softened a bit as she spoke again, saying, "I suppose it's not entirely your fault. You haven't been able to relieve yourself for a while, and I did come on quite strong." Her voice hardened again, turning businesslike as she continued, "I've seen you getting distracted, staring at me during training. The lack of release is affecting your performance, and we can't have that." She let go with one arm, keeping the other around his neck, and he felt her hand return to his member, still stiff and poking out from his boxers with wetness glistening on the tip.

He started, surprised by the contact, and said, "B-Boss, what are you doing?" He let out a long, low moan through gritted teeth as he felt her hand start to stroke up and down, rekindling the intense pressure in his shaft.

"There isn't any point in just letting you go and having you walk stiff the rest of the day," she explained, after a moment adding, "and... I like to finish what I start." Jack opened his mouth to respond and instead let out another groan as her hand sped up, stroking him at a rapid rate. He felt his muscles stiffen, the sudden burst of pleasure pushing him over the edge, and after a few moments he came, a jet of white erupting from the tip of his shaft to stain the grass in front of him. Her hand continued stroking him at a quick pace, unrelenting as pulse after pulse of come slowly released the pressure in his member. When he was finally empty, with only a single drop of translucent fluid pearling at the head of his manhood in response to her hand, she released him from her hold. He remained still, wobbling a bit from side to side, breathing heavily and feeling very confused as he tried to work out the past few minutes. The Boss walked over to the tent, wiping her hand on her pants as she said, "Come on. Get yourself presentable and let's get moving. We've already wasted daylight." She began emptying and disassembling the tent, making sure to hide her flushed face from Jack. She hadn't lied when she had said it was a test, and it was a good idea to make him finish so he wasn't hopelessly distracted for the rest of the day… but she had gotten a bit carried away. She reined in the budding arousal between her legs, distracting herself by running through the packing checklist in her mind as she picked up each item, falling into the monotonous rhythm she had done many times before.

Jack numbly buttoned and refastened his pants, his mind still in shock. He felt like if he closed his eyes he would wake up in the sleeping bag, everything a dream, but reality stayed firmly in place. He suddenly remembered there was still another week before this trip was over, and he wondered if this would change it.

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I still have no idea what I'm doing. If you have an idea for a future chapter or criticism/suggestions, a review or a PM would help immensely and I'll always reply if I can.


	2. Chapter 2 (Strangelove, Cécile)

Well, this turned out to be a long one. The smut is girl on girl and has a bit of dubcon (dubious consent), but is pretty standard stuff. It takes place during the events of Peace Walker, and contains a very small spoiler. (You learn it like 5 minutes into the game)

Characters: Strangelove, Cécile. (Cécile has a very strong French accent, so that's why her lines are written as they are. Sorry if I offend anyone.)

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The sound of footsteps echoed on the stone floor, the ringing clicks contrasting with the noise of dripping water. Cécile turned her head left and right, trying to pinpoint the cause. It wasn't the heavy tread of a soldier, nor the skin on stone slap of the other prisoner's footsteps, and she wondered who it could be. Her thoughts were interrupted when a key turned in the lock, and with a metallic grating scrape the cell door was pulled open. Against the blackness of her blindfold, she stared forward, possibilities turning wildly in her mind before the mysterious visitor spoke.

"Idiots. They just throw a beautiful thing in the darkness and filth and think nothing of it." Cécile recognized the voice, having heard it once previously, just before she had been captured and taken to this wretched place.

"You are zee silver-haired woman woman? From before?" she called out hesitantly, still straining to see anything but a suggestion of light and shadows.

There was a pause before the reply, which held a note of surprise. "Yes, I suppose you did see me. You couldn't have heard me say more than a sentence though. You must have sharp ears."

"I am an ornithologist, so I must have good hearing," she replied, happy at the small compliment. "Who are you? My name is Cécile."

"My name is… well, you can just call me Strangelove for now. It's better that you don't know my name." Before she could ask why, she was startled by the feeling of a soft leather glove on her arm, making her jump at the touch. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," Strangelove said, an apologetic tone in her voice. Strangelove went to grab her hand, but her fingers connected with the metal cuffs around Cécile's wrists and she let out a sigh. "Handcuffs? I suppose if you are the type to to lock a poor little thing away in a dungeon, then there's no such thing as overdoing it. I'll keep them on until we leave here, to keep the soldiers quiet."

" 'Leave here'? Where are you taking me?" Céecile asked nervously.

"To my lab. I promise it's a lot better than a filthy cell." Strangelove linked arms with her and helped her upright, the soft fabric of Strangelove's shirt cool against her skin. Cécile felt ridiculous as she was led forward, walking alongside the strange woman, the position of their locked arms reminding her of a bride on her wedding day. They reached a flight of stairs, Strangelove pulling upward on her arm and guiding her over each step. When they reached the top, she heard a man snicker and felt Strangelove whip her head around to glare at him, silencing the noise with the heat of her look. They continued on, with only one more incident where a soldier made a loud wolf whistle as they walked by and was met with the same response. They walked through winding corridors and occasionally the open air, the feeling of the sun on her skin refreshing. Eventually, Strangelove released her arm, fumbling with something in her pocket, and Cécile correctly guessed it was a keycard when a loud beep sounded and the noise of unlocking bolts hit her ears. Strangelove pushed open the door, letting a gust of artificially chilly air brush past them.

"I would say 'Ta-da' but the effect is rather spoiled if you can't see it. Welcome to my lab." Cécile stepped forward, shivering as the cold air hit her bare skin. When she had been captured, the soldiers took her jacket and shorts, and she was wearing only a tank top, her underwear, and a thin layer of dirt and filth. She felt Strangelove's gaze on her from behind and turned around, prompting a soft sigh.

"What about my 'andcuffs, Strange-love?" she asked, tasting the unfamiliar name for the first time.

She had the feeling she interrupted Strangelove's thoughts when she replied, saying, "Oh, yes, of course," her voice flustered as she dug in the pocket of her shirt for the key. As she fit the slim metal to the lock, she said in a serious tone, "You can't take off the blindfold. It's very important." The handcuffs opened and Cécile pulled her hands free, rubbing at her sore wrists.

"Why are you doing zis? What 'appens if I take off zee blindfold?" she asked, worry in her voice.

"I couldn't let a beautiful girl like you waste away in that filthy dungeon because of some foolish soldiers. Speaking of filthy, you are covered in dirt. You need a bath," Strangelove said, a brittle edge to her voice as she dodged the question. She took Cécile's hand, the sudden touch surprising her, and started to lead her away.

"Where are we going now?" she asked, her mind more preoccupied on how Strangelove kept calling her beautiful than how she ignored her question. Cécile was still unsure of her true motives, but being with Strangelove seemed much better than sitting in a cell.

"To the bathroom, of course. I have a rather nice bathtub in my room."

"Your room? You live 'ere, in your lab?"

"I like to stay close to my work, and it's more convenient that having a room elsewhere." Her voice sounded defensive, and Cécile decided to not press her any further, remaining silent for the rest of the trip. After Strangelove led her along for a minute, climbing several small flights of stairs and across what seemed to be a catwalk, they reached another door. Strangelove opened it with her keycard and pulled her inside, the artificial taste of repeatedly conditioned air replaced by the spicy tang of cinnamon. "Candles," she explained although Cécile hadn't asked, "They help me think." Strangelove pulled her through one more door, and her feet touched linoleum, the cool tiles suggesting she had reached her destination. She felt the movement of air as Strangelove passed by her, humming slightly as the clatter of bottles and the sound of rushing of water filled the air, and she guessed that Strangelove was preparing the aforementioned bath. Cécile sighed, the idea of a hot bath very enticing, but realizing there was a problem her… captor? No, perhaps 'caretaker' described the strange silver-haired woman better. Either way, she had forgotten something important, so Cécile spoke up.

"Strangelove?"

"Yes?" The reply was slightly muffled, and from a different direction than she had anticipated, so she turned to face it before speaking again.

"I cannot take a bath with a blindfold on. I could not wash my 'air, or see zee soaps and things."

"Oh." This time, the reply was filled with embarrassed realization. "Well… I suppose there isn't any problem taking it off just in here. My bathroom doesn't contain any important secrets, and you've already seen my face." Cécile heard footsteps move towards her, and felt Strangelove's hands on the back of her head, fumbling with the knot of the blindfold. She had removed her gloves, and Cécile shivered as Strangelove's soft skin touched her cheek, her hands moving down with each holding one end of the cloth. Her eyes opened slowly, squinting as they adjusted to the light. Everything looked blurry, but after a few moments of blinking the world shifted back into focus. She found herself staring into Strangelove's deep blue eyes, only a foot away and filled with an intense emotion she couldn't quite identify. They stood like that, Strangelove's hands framing her face as their gaze stayed locked together, the only sound the pouring water of the bath. After a few moments, the spell seemed to break and Cécile took a step back, her heart feeling strange and her face coloring slightly.

"Th…" Cécile coughed to clear her throat, and tried again, saying, "Thank you."

Strangelove's face was pink as well, whether in embarrassment or otherwise she could not tell. "Yes…" she said, trailing off before setting herself back on track. She moved over to the bath again and turned off the taps, halting the flow of water. "Well, come on then, get in," she prompted when Céclie didn't move.

Cécile looked at her in confusion and after a few moments where Strangelove did not budge, she said, "Do you expect me to take zee bath with my clothes on?"

Strangelove stared at her oddly for a moment before replying, "No, of course not."

"Zen why aren't you leaving? I need to undress!"

Strangelove smirked at her and clasped her hands to her face, speaking in a tone of mock horror. "Leave an important prisoner all by herself, unrestrained? What if she escaped? Besides," she continued, her voice turning amused, "it's not like you'd be the first naked woman I've ever seen." Cécile glanced down at Strangelove's body, covered in a neat vest and white shirt, and she suddenly found her imagination running wild without her permission. _Seeing Strangelove's pale, bare skin, flushed a delicate pink, the rise and fall of her br- Snap out of it!_ She looked at Strangelove, the smirk on her mouth not helping the blush creeping across Cécile's cheeks, and sighed, walking over to the edge of the bath before responding.

"Fine." With that, she grabbed the sides of her dirt-encrusted and stained tank top, pulling it up and over her head until she stood in only her white bra and underwear, which were in a similar condition as the shirt. She was facing away from Strangelove, but she felt the burning stare directed at her, Strangelove shiting position where she stood. Cécile let her hands rest against the clasp of her bra, taking a breath before quickly undoing it and pulling it off as well. The sudden movement caused her breasts to bounce slightly as they were freed, and she heard a soft intake of breath from behind her. She extended her arm, dropping the bra on top of her discarded shirt, feeling both a need to clasp her arms around her chest and a strange, nervous excitement like she had never known before. Cécile rested both thumbs in the waistband of her underwear, feeling too awkward to continue without at least an attempt at privacy.

"Could you… turn around, at least?" she mumbled in a low voice, feeling her face burning red. She heard a disappointed sigh behind her, and the squeak of rubber and the rustling of clothes as Strangelove turned around. She felt relieved, having expected more resistance from her, and bent down, pulling the fabric along her legs until it hit the floor. She stepped out of the underwear, straightening up, and heard Strangelove's breath catch in her throat. Cécile turned her head to look, throwing an arm across her chest and covering between her legs as she caught Strangelove staring at her over her shoulder. Cécile stood frozen, a deer trapped in the lights of Strangelove's intense blue eyes.

"Beautiful," Strangelove murmured, her gaze taking in all of Cécile's body. Before she could enjoy it any further, Cécile suddenly moved, angling her body so her back was to Strangelove as she climbed over the edge of the bathtub. Now that she could see it, she realized the tub was massive, almost large enough for two people to lay side-by-side. and she wondered why. The water was just the right temperature, warm verging on hot, and a layer of obscuring bubbles covered the surface. She gratefully slipped under them until only her neck and head were visible, looking upwards as her muscles started to relax, the various aches and pains already lessening. She flinched when she saw Strangelove's face appear upside-down a few inches above her, making the water slop back and forth against the walls of the tub.

Strangelove didn't say anything for a moment, and Cécile took the time to study her face. She had a defined chin on a strong jawline, slightly too broad to be considered particularly feminine, and a single cute freckle, just below and to the right of her full red lips. Her pale skin was matched by her silvery hair, which was sheared short in a male haircut. Her deep blue eyes stared at Cécile, and he mouth opened and closed several times before finally speaking, apology evident in her words.

"I… Sorry. For looking at you. Not that I wouldn't want to look at you! But you didn't want to be looked at, so-" She stopped, sighing, her warm breath brushing across Cécile's cheeks. "I'm babbling. Just… sorry." Cécile simply stared at her, watching Strangelove's lower lip as it was worried by her teeth.

"It's ok." she murmured after a moment. She remembered her imagination running wild before, and added, "I think… I think I might have done the same, if we switched places." Her voice was only barely audible, as if she was afraid someone would overhear. Strangelove looked very relieved, like all the tension had been relaxed by her words.

Strangelove took a moment to examine the beauty in front of her, now that she had an opportunity to be this close. Cécile had soft blue eyes, a lighter shade than her own, that looked at her from under two perfectly-arched eyebrows. Her jaw was feminine and her chin was rounded, only an inch away from her perfect pink lips, and her skin was just slightly tanned, probably from working outside. Her long blond hair was rather dirty and matted at the moment, but she could imagine the flowing locks outlining her face.

A while later, when Strangelove seemed to be content to stare into her eyes forever, Cécile broke her gaze, finally changing position in the tub to a more comfortable one. Strangelove straightened up, her face flushing pink again as she moved away. Cécile relaxed in the bath, stretching out in the luxuriously large space as she enjoyed the warm water. When she began to rub ineffectually at the dirt and grime on her skin, Strangelove came back over, holding a bar of soap and a long-handled scrubbing brush. Cécile had the strange feeling of imagining an alternate reality, where Strangelove walked forward with a confident swagger, the possibility of refusing her nonexistent as she held her down and scrubbed her. In this world however, she moved forward with her eyes downcast, making hesitant steps towards the tub.

"Would you like some help?" she asked in a small voice. Cécile didn't know what had happened exactly, to change the smirking, confident Strangelove into a nervous and shy one, but she quite liked the alteration.

She flashed a small smile at Strangelove, saying, "I think I would like zat." Strangelove looked up quickly, her eyes surprised, before stepping forward, grabbing a small stool from a corner of the room and setting it behind the head of the bath. She sat down, gathering a few of the bottles she had prepared before and moving them closer to her seat. Cécile turned to look over her shoulder, watching Strangelove as she unbuttoned her vest and folded it over a towel rack, her thin red tie following it shortly afterwards. Strangelove rolled up her long-sleeved shirt until her arms were bare to the elbow, and Cécile felt oddly disappointed that she hadn't taken it off. Strangelove picked up the bar of soap, dipping it below the surface of the water before scrubbing it against the head of the brush.

Finally prepared, she took a deep breath, meeting Cécile's gaze and asking, "Ready?" Cécile nodded, not trusting her voice as she turned her back to Strangelove and moved until she touched the edge of the tub, only her shoulders and above visible. She felt the soft bristles against her back, moving in small circles, and the stubborn grime that hadn't succumbed to the water began to fall away. The brush continued down her back, more and more of her skin being cleaned, and Cécile let out a small pleased sigh at the sensation. The head of the brush suddenly ducked between her arms to scrub at her sides, making her giggle and pull away.

Ticklish? I'll keep that in mind," said Strangelove, her voice amused. When Cécile's whole back was clean and the scrubbing brush was put away, Strangelove picked up a bottle and squirted a sweet smelling substance onto her palm. She rubbed her hands together, spreading it evenly, before moving them to the top of Cécile's head. She gently pushed her down until her hair was fully submerged, and pulled her back up until her head was upright. Her fingers rubbed Cécile's scalp, making it tingle, and she continued to work the shampoo down through her tangled hair. After she was finished, she pushed Cécile's head down again, drawing her hands through the blond locks as a makeshift comb. Strangelove continued to brush out her hair, removing the shampoo as she did, leaving her hair clean once again. When she stopped and pulled away, Cécile opened her mouth to say she could take it from here and instead yelped in surprise as Strangelove's hands touched her shoulders. Her fingers began to massage, a rhythmic motion that rubbed against Cécile's sore muscles, and she let out a low groan. Strangelove continued, moving slowly down her back and finding every knot, the sensation of her recently-cleaned skin against Strangelove's soft hands making it feel even more enjoyable.

"Mhmmmm… You are pretty good at zat…" Cécile murmured drowsily, the relaxation of the massage and the pleasant heat from the bath making her sleepy. Strangelove didn't reply, merely humming softly as she worked, lowering her arms deeper and deeper into the bath. Strangelove's hands continued down her back, and Cécile jolted awake as she felt them grab her ass.

"Eh?!"

"Sorry. My hands must have slipped," said Strangelove, although her voice was smug and not apologetic. Cécile sighed internally as she realized that the adorably nervous Strangelove from a few minutes ago was no more. Strangelove pulled her arms from the bath, noting in distaste that the edges of her shirt had touched the water and were soaked. She quickly unbuttoned it, pulling it off her arms, and placed it to dry next to her vest. Cécile didn't turn to look at her, and Strangelove could see the pink of a blush returning her cheeks. Strangelove picked up the soap again, leaning forward to touch it to Cécile's back. She flinched at the touch, but Strangelove continued to rub the bar against her bare skin. She shied away from Strangelove's hands again when she tried to move the soap over her sides, and Strangelove said, "Too ticklish still? Hmm. I guess I'll just have to wash the front instead."

Before Cécile could say anything, she felt Strangelove lean forward, their shoulders brushing together as Strangelove brought both arms around her. She felt the soap touch her stomach, underneath the water, and she shivered, saying in a weak voice, "I… I can wash myself."

"That's no fun, is it though? This way is a lot more…" Strangelove leaned in further, and Cécile felt her teeth graze her ear as she continued in a low, husky voice, "... _interesting._ " Cécile felt gooseflesh on her arms, even against the heat of the bath, and she shivered again. When Strangelove's hands started moving, one pressing the soap to her flat stomach and the other trailing across her skin, she didn't protest, merely breathing shallowly and tensing her muscles as the soft hands kindled a heat between her legs. Strangelove dragged her fingertips across Cécile's thigh, first on top, then teasing the sensitive inner flesh, making Cécile shudder and let out a small moan, muffled as she bit her lip to stop it escaping. Strangelove grinned, confident now that she knew that Cécile was enjoying this. Strangelove moved her hand upward, dragging the soap between Cécile's ample breasts, loving the small noises that escaped her as the slippery bar moved around the delicate skin. She drew her hand up from her thigh, tracing her body with a finger as she went, and moved the soap over one breast, making a small circle around the stiffened nipple. Her other hand followed suit, resting on the opposite breast and squeezing gently. Cécile let out a quiet gasp, but still made no protest as Strangelove continued, switching the soap between hands to clean the other breast. Strangelove pressed herself against Cécile's back, her own breasts squishing against it, and took her time in fondling Cécile's soap-covered mounds, squeezing the soft, slippery flesh between her fingers and gently tweaking the hard buds that crowned them, appreciating the small mewling noises it caused. She angled her head to press her lips against the crook of Cécile's neck, kissing and nibbling at the sensitive skin.

Cécile let out a low moan, her hand beginning to move unbidden, the intense feeling between her legs too much to ignore now. Strangelove noticed the movement of her arm and smirked, saying in a seductive tone, "My my, what _are_ you up to?" She reached down, intercepting Cécile's wrist, her smirk growing wider when she let out a pleading whine. "Looks like I didn't clean down there. I had better take care of that." Strangelove slowly made her way down with the soap, rubbing tiny circles across the sensitive skin of her chest and stomach until the bar rested above her swollen folds. She stayed there for a moment, teasing her before lightly dragging the soap across her slit. Cécile moaned, loud and unashamed, her hips bucking forward against the stimulation, causing the water in the tub to slosh back and forth. Strangelove pulled the soap up through her folds again, this time slow and deliberate, savouring the long, needy groan that it caused. Finished with the soap, Strangelove let it fall, instead drawing two delicate fingers across her slick heat, dipping slightly deeper than before and enjoying the gasp Cécile made. Strangelove paused, her fingers hovering, and spoke, her voice lustful and low.

"Ready?" she murmured, and Cécile frantically nodded, her arousal overpowering any of the other emotions she felt. Strangelove slipped her long fingers inside, marveling at the silky heat of her inner walls, and Cécile let out an impassioned moan, her toes curling under the water and her hands making fists. Strangelove moved her fingers upwards inside her, stroking her frontal wall as if searching for something, making Cécile writhe against her hand, short gasps and whimpers escaping her.

Strangelove continued, feeling her inner walls squeeze tighter, and her fingertips brushed against a particular patch of rough skin. Cécile cried out, bucking her hips forward wildly as intense pleasure bombarded her mind, and when Strangelove curled her fingers, gently rubbing the patch of skin once more, she let out a long, whimpering moan. All she could feel were the fingers inside her, ceaselessly stimulating her, and suddenly a thumb on her swollen clit, rubbing in small circles. After only a few seconds, she came, the intense, constant stimulation pushing her over the edge. Cécile arched her back, her muscles tightening to the snapping point as a mix between a scream and a moan escaped her, a flood of hot juices covering Strangelove's hand and spilling out into the bath. Her hips bucked against the still-moving fingers, her climax extending to the limit as her body twitched and writhed. After a what felt like an hour of ecstasy, she dropped back down into the tub, her muscles weak and aching. Cécile felt Strangelove's soft arms under hers, holding her above the water as she came down from the pleasure high. Every inch of her skin felt like it was overheating, but she couldn't do anything but lay like a ragdoll as her body tried to recover. Cécile closed her eyes for seemingly a moment, but when she opened them again she was being carried in Strangelove's arms, wrapped in a fluffy white towel. She felt like there was something she should be doing, but her thoughts were sluggish and it slipped away as she tried to remember. Strangelove staggered under her weight, setting her down on an extraordinarily soft bed. Cécile felt a pillow being pushed under her head, and she shut her eyes, almost immediately overcome with sleep.

She rested peacefully, only woken once when she heard what sounded like a moan, but she returned to sleep when she didn't hear anything more.

Cécile opened her eyes, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling uncomprehendingly for a moment before her memory made itself known. She groaned, moving her hands to hide her face as she remembered the previous night. _I let her…? I… with a woman? What was I thinking?!_ She reflected back on Strangelove's cute nervousness, and her beautiful face and intense blue eyes…. She sat up, hissing between her teeth as she felt the soreness between her legs and throughout her body, and looked around the room, thinking. She was on a large and ornate bed, far too big for one person and covered with expensive looking sheets and pillows, the mattress very soft and yielding. The rest of the room was rather normal in comparison; a wooden dresser shoved against one wall, with a tall, full body mirror next to it, a bedside table, covered in books and papers, along with several skin creams. There were two doors on opposite walls, one of them open and apparently producing the smell of frying eggs.

Cécile felt her stomach rumble. She hadn't eaten anything since the horrible stale bread she had been given two days ago in the prison, and she stood up without the intervention of her brain. She suddenly acutely realized she was naked and looked around for something to wear, finding only one of Strangelove's white long-sleeve dress shirts and a pair of her underwear in a clothes basket next to the bed. The bedsheets were too large to try and fashion into something, and the drawers to the dresser were either stuck or locked, so she put on the shirt and underwear, feeling they were inadequate but having no other options. Cécile walked to the open door, her stomach still urgently reminding her of the delicious smell. She looked in on a small kitchen, which contained a tiny table with one chair, a stove that had a pan of frying eggs on it, and Strangelove. She wore the same outfit as the day before, and she hummed as she watched the eggs, tapping a spatula on the stove. Cécile watched her for a few moments before clearing her throat, making Strangelove jump.

She turned around, looking slightly guilty, and said, "I made eggs. I'm sorry if they're not very good, I don't usually cook." She held up the pan for her examination, shifting her weight from one leg to the other,

Cécile sat down at the only seat, feeling awkward. She gestured to the small table and lack of other places, saying, "Why do you only 'ave one chair?"

Strangelove shifted nervously before turning around again, opening cupboards and retrieving plates and forks as she spoke hesitantly. "I… don't have people here."

"Ze bed, ze bath, both are too big for just you," Cécile said accusingly. When she had a chance to think before, she realized why those-and only those-things were abnormally sized.

Strangelove handed her a plate and a fork and she dug in hungrily to a pile of scrambled eggs, still waiting for the response. "You're right," said Strangelove awkwardly, after a moment, "I'm not always… alone here. But you're the only person to come in the kitchen. The only one I've made breakfast for." Cécile felt her heart flutter at those words, and she tried not to think about why. "I'm sure you think I took advantage of you. Well, I did. And… I'm sorry." Strangelove ran a hand through her silver hair, taking a deep breath before continuing, her voice slightly anxious. "I don't want you to think you have to… be with me, just because you can't leave. I won't try anything. You can just stay here, and I'll get you food, and everything, and you don't have do anything for me. Unless you want to. But I'm not-" Her babbling was silenced when Cécile stood up and stepped towards her, pressing her soft pink lips to Strangelove's. The kiss was gentle and short, but it left Strangelove dumbstruck as she pulled away.

"This way is a lot more interesting," Cécile murmured, quite shocked herself.

* * *

This turned out fluffier than I intended, but I'm a sucker for cute lesbian pairings. This was my first time writing female on female in third person, and it was a massive pain, so I'm sorry about the overload of female pronouns and any confusion they caused. I enjoy writing Strangelove, and she's a great catalyst for smut, so she might show up in future chapters. I might also write more of these two and think about moving the chapter to its own story. As always, any criticism, suggestions, or ideas for future chapters are welcome and I'll always reply if I can.


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